Yet Another Fine Myth
by Bookworm Gal
Summary: The story should be a familiar one. Skeeve was a magician's apprentice to Garkin, until an assassin murdered said magician. Which left Skeeve alone with Aahz, a powerless demon that Garkin had summoned from another dimension as a practical joke. So these two form a partnership to stop a mad man. But not everything is the same. Skeeve has a secret this time and must keep it hidden.
1. Chapter 1

**Okay, this could either turn into a complete disaster or a relative success. I honestly have no idea at the moment. But I do know it'll be reasonably long when complete and will take forever to write. Of course, this is not a popular fandom, so I don't expect a lot of readers for this story. So maybe I won't upset too many people with this thing.**

 **All right, here's some background knowledge. "Another Fine Myth" was written in 1978 by the late Robert Aspirin (who passed away in 2008). I was not alive then. I wasn't alive even a decade later after he wrote several more stories for the series. I did not discover this series until many years later in my father's library. Specifically, I discovered them during the long break between the publication of "Sweet Myth-tery of Life" and "Myth-ion Improbable." And I deeply enjoyed the series and continued to read it once Robert Aspirin started writing again, when he started collaborating with Jody Lynn Nye, and when she took over the series after he passed. In summary, I loved the books and I highly recommend them to anyone who enjoys a fantasy/adventure/comedy series.**

 **Now this story is something a bit different than most of my works. The first and most important fact is that this is a retelling/rewrite of the first book with a small alteration. Yeah, that sounds like the laziest thing possible, but it is actually a lot work to rewrite an entire story. You have to faithfully recreate a professional work while incorporating small alterations and figure out how they would affect later events and the entire plot. I've done it before with a film (rewriting the entire "Transformers: Dark of the Moon" film). It's just hard to do a good job with it. And now I'm doing it with one of my favorite books and that makes me a little nervous.**

 **Second, this is my first time writing a fanfiction for a piece of literature. I've done movies, television shows, cartoons, and even video games. But books are different. You either have to match and copy the writing style of the original or figure out a way to copy the tone in your own style. And you have to make sure that your quality is just as good since it is easier to compare writing to writing than it is a movie to writing.**

 **And third, since the books are generally in first-person, I'm going to be mostly using first-person for this story. I usually prefer third-person limited, but the book series almost always used Skeeve's first-person viewpoint. So that's what I'm going to attempt. And if I feel the need to show someone else's viewpoint, I'll switch to third-person for them to make it easier to recognize the change.**

 **Finally, I won't tell you what my minor alteration is at the moment. When you first start reading this, it'll seem really similar to what you read in the book (though you should hopefully be able to understand and follow the story even if you aren't familiar with "Another Fine Myth"). But read closely anyway so that you can start picking up the hints for when the change becomes obvious. It isn't the most original change in the world, but I thought it might be interesting to see what happens and it isn't like there are a huge number of fanfiction stories for this fandom.**

 **I do not own the characters, the plot, the multiverse they exist in, or anything else. They originally belonged to Robert Aspirin and I believe that Jody Lynn Nye has possession of them now. I can barely claim even slight ownership to this plot since it is based directly on "Another Fine Myth." I really don't own anything except my paperback copies of the series.**

 **Maybe no one will ever read this. Or maybe someone will actually give it a chance and like it. I have no idea. But I'm going to give it a try.**

Yet Another Fine Myth

" _Be a man and face your problems."_ – P. Oliver

One of the few nice aspects of adults that I'd long since realized was that they could be fooled when dealing with someone younger. It was true when my mother taught me to read, a skill she still managed to share before her death. It was true when my father tried to trade me to the richest man in the small village, leading me to act like I agreed that saving the farm during the drought was worth it until I could manage to run away. And it was true now while learning magik.

"You haven't been practicing!" Garkin's harsh admonishment rang out.

"I have too!" I protested. "It's just a difficult exercise."

As if in response to my words, the feather I was levitating began to tremble and wobble in midair.

"You aren't concentrating!" he shouted accusingly.

"It's the wind," I argued.

Part of me wanted to add "from your loud mouth," but didn't dare. Not only did Garkin demonstrate early in our lessons that he didn't appreciate cheeky apprentices, but a lifetime of experience before magik had already taught me that I wasn't meant to draw too much attention to myself. Even years later, I couldn't completely overcome the instinct to be seen and not heard sometimes.

"The wind," he sneered, raising the pitch of his voice to mimic mine. "Like this, dolt."

My mental contact with the object of my concentration was interrupted as the feather darted suddenly towards the ceiling. It jarred to a halt as if it had imbedded in something, though it was still about a foot from the wooden beams. Then the feather slowly rotated to a horizontal plane before spinning gradually on its axis. After that, it swapped ends and then glided around in circles.

I snuck a quick glance at Garkin. He was draped over his chair, his feet dangling lazily, and his entire attention devoted to biting into a leg of roast lizard-bird, a bird I snared and roasted in the first place. Concentration. Right…

He looked up suddenly and our eyes met. Once again, my constant fear flickered. Did he know? But as always for the last year, I immediately shoved it down. He didn't. He couldn't even suspect it. I made certain of that.

"Hungry?" he asked, his grease-flecked salt-and-pepper beard suddenly framing a wolfish smile. "Then show me how much you've been practicing."

It took me a heartbeat to realize what he meant; then I looked up desperately. The feather tumbled towards the floor, already halfway down. Forcing myself to instantly let go of all tension even in my panic, I reached out with my mind… gentle… like a pillow… easy…

The feather halted a couple hand-spans from the dirt floor.

I heard Garkin's low chuckle, but refused to let it break my concentration. I hadn't let the feather touch the ground in a couple of years and I wouldn't mess that up now.

Slowly I raised it back up until the feather regained eye level. Wrapping my mind around it, I slowly enticed the feather to mirror the man's previous example. As I led it through its paces, its movements were not as smooth or sure as when Garkin set his mind to the task, but I also didn't make any mistakes.

I hadn't been practicing with the feather. I hadn't even been practicing levitation that much, though I did work with keys a bit since I could use that skill. Levitating keys was practical, especially for someone with aspirations of being a thief. But I'd mostly been working on a more advanced and subtle spell I'd discovered in his books, one that I'd been perfecting since near the beginning of my apprenticeship. I was depending desperately on the effectiveness of the spell and ensuring no one noticed it.

"Good enough, Lad. Now put it back in the book."

I nodded and smiled slightly. This part I did practice a little. Everyone deserved a little fun in their lives and this was mine.

The feather swooped towards the open book on the end of the workbench. I sent it to pass gently over the pages before floating past the book. The feather then stopped and swung back the way it came, approaching the book a second time. I disengaged part of my mind to reach towards the book. As the feather crossed the pages again, the book snapped shut like the jaws of a hungry predator, trapping the prize.

"Hmm…" said Garkin. "A trifle showy, but effective."

"Just a little something I worked on while practicing," I said with a little pride.

Certain that Garkin would now be satisfied, I reached out with my mind for the other lizard-bird leg. Instead of floating gracefully to my waiting hand, however, it remained stationary on the wooden platter.

"Not so fast, my little sneak-thief. So you've been practicing, eh?" he said as he stroked his beard thoughtfully with the half-gnawed bone in his hand.

"Certainly. Didn't it show?"

Perhaps he wasn't as easily fooled as he looked. But if he was going to notice something, it was better to realize I wasn't practicing my magik as much as I should and certainly not the spells he wanted me to. My other secret was of far greater importance than my perceived laziness.

"In that case, I'd like to see you light your candle. It should be easy if you have been practicing as much as you claim."

"I can certainly try, but as you have said many times in the past, some lessons come easier than others."

I tried to sound confident, but my spirits plummeted as the large candle came floating to the work table in response to Garkin's summons. In four years of being his apprentice, I had yet to succeed at this particular exercise. If Garkin was going to keep me from food until I was successful, I was going to starve.

"Say, uh, Garkin, don't you think I could probably concentrate better on a full stomach?"

"What I think is that you're stalling."

"Couldn't I just…"

" _Now,_ Skeeve."

There was no swaying him once he used my proper name. I'd learned that much over the years. Lad, Thief, Idiot, Boy, Turnip-Head, and so on and there was still a chance to change his mind. Once he reverted to my real name, my fate was sealed. It was truly a sorry state when the sound of your own name becomes a knell of doom.

Of course, I felt rather fond of my name. While not the most impressive name, Skeeve was common enough that no one would blink twice when they heard it. And while more often used for boys, people would name any of their children Skeeve and almost any decent-sized village would have one. It made my disappearance easier. No one ever noticed another Skeeve sneaking around with plans to steal them blind. Not that I managed to make it that far yet…

Well, if there was no way around it, I'd just have to give it my best shot. There would be no half-effort or feigned concentration. I would have to use every ounce of my strength and skill to summon the power.

I studied the candle with a detached mind, not thinking or looking at anything else in the room. The cluttered workbench, Garkin, and even my own hunger faded away as I focused on the candle. It was unnecessary though; I'd long since memorized every feature.

The candle was stout, nearly six inches across to stabilize its ten-inch height. Copied carefully from Garkin's books at his instructions, I'd carved numerous mystic symbols that were now partially obstructed by old dribbles of wax. I'd burned the candle for many long hours to light my studies, but it was never lit directly by my magik.

Negative thought. Stop it. Focus.

I will light the candle this time. I will because there is no reason I should not.

Consciously deepening my breathing, I began to draw in the power. Everything narrowed further until all I was aware of was the curled, blackened wick of the candle.

I am Skeeve. My father has a farmer's bond with the earth. My mother was an educated woman from distant lands. My teacher is a master magician. I am Skeeve. I will light this candle.

I could feel myself beginning to grow warm, the energies beginning to build within me. I focused on directing the heat on the wick.

Like my father, I tap the strength of the earth for the power I need. The knowledge and spirit my mother gave me before it killed her now served as a lens, enabling me to focus what I have gained. The wisdom of my teacher directs my efforts to the points of the universe most likely to yield to my will. I am Skeeve.

The candle remained unlit. There was sweat on my forehead now. I was beginning to tremble with the effort. No, that was wrong. I shouldn't tense. Relax. Don't try to force it. Tensing hinders the flow of power. Let the energy pass freely. I'm just a passive conductor. I force myself to relax every muscle, my face and shoulders going slack as I try harder.

The flow was noticeably more intense now; I could almost _see_ the energy streaming from me to my target. I stretched out a finger to help focus the energy even more. The candle remained unlit.

I couldn't do it. Negative thought. Stop it. I am Skeeve. I will light the candle. My father… No, that's wrong. Do not rely on others for your strength. Especially not him. I will light this candle because I am Skeeve.

I was rewarded by a sudden surge of energy at the thought. I pursued it, confidence feeding into the power I pulled in. I am Skeeve. I am stronger than any of them. I would have to be stronger in order to be where I am today. I escaped my father's attempt to chain me to the son of the richest man in the village in order to benefit him and my brother. My mother died from the idealism and spirit she'd brought from another kingdom, but I kept my head down long enough to use her teachings to survive. My teacher was a gullible fool who took a thief for an apprentice and never realized my secret even before I studied his books. I have beaten them all. I am Skeeve. I will light the candle.

I felt like I was floating now. I could see how my abilities dwarfed those around me. Whether the candle lit or not was inconsequential. I am Skeeve. I am powerful.

I am a worthless girl.

That intrusive thought shattered my focus and confidence, causing my gathered power to slip away. Another failure. I slumped tiredly, just now noticing the headache my efforts caused. There was no point trying again immediately. My concentration was too broken.

"Honestly, Lad."

Garkin snarled practically in my ear, making me jump. How long had he been that close?

"You can't be this dense. Are you even trying? It is _not_ a difficult spell," he continued. "But you cannot fail forever, Lad. You managed levitation eventually. By the stars, we'll make a magician out of you yet." Shaking his head in frustration, Garkin said, "Here, you should eat something before you keel over."

I barely get my hand up in time to catch the remaining lizard-bird leg before it whacked my face. It was cold.

"What is causing you so much trouble? What makes this lesson so hard? Has it occurred to you that you could use this spell to give you extra light when you're picking a lock or even to start a fire to serve as a diversion?"

"I thought about it, but the extra light could draw attention. And using it for a diversion could be dangerous. I don't want to hurt anyone accidentally, just…"

I stopped, realizing what I was saying too late. A heavy cuff from Garkin sent me sprawling off the stool onto the dirt floor.

"I thought so! You're still planning to be a thief. You want to use my magik to steal!"

He was towering in his rage, the force of his emotions terrifying to behold. But while I knew it was expected of me to cringe meekly, that's not what happened. For once, the sting of impact prompted me to stand my ground.

"And why shouldn't I?" I snarled. "It beats starving. What's so wonderful about being a magician, anyway? I mean, your lifestyle here gives me _so_ much to look forward to."

I gestured at the cluttered room that was the entirety of the hug. Other than the curtain drawn in front of his bed, everything in the roughly-constructed structure was easy to see. Wood walls, thatch roof, and dirt floor with the exception of one stone section, it was a simple place that was just a few steps above being homeless vagabonds. It honestly wasn't that impressive.

"Listen to the wolfling complain," Garkin sneered. "It was good enough for you when the winter drove you out of the forest to steal. 'It beats sleeping under a bush,' you said."

"It still does, which is why I'm still here. But I'm not going to stay here forever. Hiding in a little hut in the woods is not my idea of a decent future. You were living on roots and berries until I showed up and started setting snares. Maybe that's you idea of a wonderful life, Garkin, but it's not mine!"

We glared at each other for several long moments, but doubts began to creep in. Now that my anger was vented, I was more than a little afraid. While I had not had a lot experience on the subject, I suspected that sneering at magicians was not the best way to ensure a long and healthy life.

Surprisingly, it was Garkin who gave ground first. He abruptly dropped his gaze and bowed his head, giving me a unique view of the wild and unkempt mass of hair atop it.

"Perhaps you're right, Skeeve," he said, his voice strangely soft. "Perhaps I have been showing you all the work of magik, but not the rewards. Perhaps that's why you can't be motivated to succeed with this spell. I constantly forget how suppressed magik is in these lands."

He raised his eyes to mine again and I shivered at the intensity. They were not angry, but deep within burned a glow I had never seen before. And that fire unnerved me.

"Know this, Skeeve. Not all lands are like this one nor was I always as you see me now. I've been to lands where magik is recognized instead of feared as it is here; it is respected and commissioned by those in power. There, a skillful magician who keeps his wits can reap a hundred times what you could ever claim as a thief. And wield such power that…"

He broke off suddenly and shook his head as if to clear it. When he opened his eyes again, the glow I'd seen burning before had died to an ember. But the fire wasn't completely gone, so I was still cautious. I knew that fires _burn_.

"But you aren't one to be impressed by words, are you, Lad? Come, I'll show you a little demonstration of some of the power you may someday call upon. _If_ you practice your lessons, that is."

The joviality of his voice was forced. I nodded my agreement in response to that burning gaze. Honestly, I needed no further demonstration. His soft, brief speech had awed me more than any angry tirade or magik display, but I did not want to contradict him at this time.

I don't believe he actually noticed my response. He was already striding towards the large pentagram permanently etched into the large flat stone that made up one section of the floor. As he walked, he gestured absentmindedly and the charred copper brazier scuttled forth from the corner to meet him in the center of the pentagram.

The brazier was probably the first thing to draw me to Garkin. I remembered the first time I peered through the window of his hut, my hair already messily cut short and my clothes loose shapeless things. I looked for objects of value for later theft and caught a glimpse of my future teacher pacing around the room. He kept his nose buried in a book, a rare and valuable object, while the brazier followed him like an impatient puppy too polite to jump on its master for attention. From there, I watched him start mixing ingredients from his workbench, but my mind already started considering the possibilities that magik might offer. If magik could make a copper brazier scurry around like that, perhaps it could change or disguise what I was. The brazier initially drew me to Garkin, but his books sealed the deal.

Whenever he left the hut, I read his books desperately for a spell that could help me. I didn't expect to find anything in the impressive-looking tomes with mystic symbols on the cover that Garkin used for my lessons, so I searched the others. A few were written in tongues I didn't recognize and I couldn't understand what other books were talking about, the discussions and theories far too advanced. But in a book that looked more like the ones my mother brought secretly from a different kingdom when she was young and later used to teach me to read, a book that looked _nothing_ like the ominous and mysterious tomes that Garkin preferred, I found a spell that did exactly what I needed.

The book called it a Crypton Detail-Oriented Perception Obscurer, but I figured secret-hiding spell was less of a mouthful. From the description, a magician could take a small fact or trait about themselves and lock it away so no one would notice that fact. Others would not be able to even consider the possibility. It worked best when there were no obvious signs of the secret, otherwise the spell would require more power and would become more noticeable to other magicians, but it was meant to be a subtle and easily missed spell. I couldn't understand the in-depth descriptions of how and why it worked and the references to other techniques didn't make sense to me, but the actual process seemed a little more comprehensible. And even though I still couldn't understand half the words the book used, I spent the next couple of years working on it every chance I could. I stubbornly stuck to the process of trial and error.

While keeping my blonde hair short and wearing loose clothes hid my gender for a while, I was aware of and dreaded the day my age would make it impossible to hide. And I knew the slightest mistake at the wrong time could spell disaster and I would end up just like my mother, if not worse. So the day I locked away the fact I was a girl using the spell, ensuring that no one would be able to even suspect the truth about me, I started to feel like I could finally relax and work on my other lessons.

Something wrenched my attention back to the present. What was it? I checked Garkin's progress. No, he was still at work, half-hidden by a floating cloud of vials and jars, mumbling as he occasionally plucked one from the air to pour into the brazier. Whatever he was working on, it promised to be truly spectacular.

Then I heard it again, a muffled step outside the hut. But that was impossible! Garkin always set the… I began to search my memory. I could not recall Garkin actually setting the protective wards before he started to work. Ridiculous. Caution was the first and most important lesson he beat into my head and part of that was setting wards before you start working. He couldn't have forgotten… but he had been rather intense and distracted...

I was still trying to decide if it would be wise to interrupt Garkin's work when he abruptly stepped back from the brazier. He turned his gaze towards me and any thought of speaking died instantly. This was not the time to do anything except remain silent and docile. The glow had returned to his eyes stronger than before.

"Even demonstrations should give a lesson," he intoned solemnly. "Control, Skeeve. Control is the mainstay of magik. Power without control is a disaster. That's why you practice with a feather even though you should be capable of moving larger and heavier objects. That's why you must master lighting a candle before we consider anything more impressive. Control. Even your meager powers would be dangerous unless properly controlled and I refuse to teach you more until you learn that control."

He carefully stepped out of the pentagram.

"To show the value of control, I will now summon forth a demon, a being from another world. He is powerful, cruel, and vicious. He would kill us both if given the chance. Yet despite this, we need not fear him because he will be controlled. He will be unable to harm us or anything else in this world as long as he is contained within that pentagram. Watch closely, Skeeve. Watch and learn."

With that firm command, he turned once more to the brazier. He spread his hands and five candles at the points of the pentagram ignited. The lines began to glow with an eerie blue light. Silence reigned for several moments. Then he began to chant in a low mumble. A tendril of smoke appeared from the brazier, but poured to the floor rather than rising to the ceiling. A small cloud of smoke that seethed and pulsed formed in the center of the pentagram. Garkin's chanting became louder and the cloud grew and darkened. The brazier was almost obscured from view but there… in the very depths of the cloud… something was taking shape.

"Isstvan sends his greetings, Garkin!"

I nearly jumped out of my skin, my heart leaping into my throat. The voice came from inside the hut, but not inside the pentagram! I spun around towards the source. A figure stood just inside the door, blinding in a shimmering gold cloak. For a mad moment I thought it was the demon answering Garkin's summons. Then I saw the crossbow. He was a man, but the cocked and loaded crossbow in his hand did little for my peace of mind.

Garkin did not even bother to turn and look.

"Not now, you fool!" he snarled.

"It has been a long hunt, Garkin," the man continued as if he hadn't heard. "You've hidden yourself away well, but did you really hope to escape…"

"You dare!?" shouted Garkin as he spun away from his work, towering in his terrifying rage.

The man saw Garkin's face now, saw his eyes, and the intruder's face contorted into a grotesque mask of fear. Reflexively, he loosed the bolt from his crossbow, but too late. I did not see what Garkin did; things were happening too fast. But the man suddenly disappeared in a sheet of flames. He shrieked in agony and fell to the ground. The flame disappeared as suddenly as it had arrived, leaving only the smoldering corpse and the scent of burnt meat as evidence it ever existed.

I remained frozen for several moments before I could manage to move or even speak.

"Garkin," I said at last, my voice shaking a little, "I… _Garkin_!"

Garkin's form was a crumpled lump on the floor. I jumped to his side in one bound, but I was too late to do anything for him. The crossbow bolt protruded from his chest, his shirt already staining red and his eyes blank. Garkin had given me his last lesson.

As I stooped down and reached to shut his eyes, I noticed something that froze my blood in its veins. Half-hidden by his limp body was the extinguished candle from the north point of the pentagram. The lines were no longer blue. The protective spell was no longer active.

Terrified by what I might see, I reluctantly raised my head and found myself gazing at a pair of yellow eyes, flecked with gold, that were not of this world.

 **Yeah, if you haven't figured it out now, I've turned Skeeve into a girl. I was curious about how that might end up affecting things. There are hints in the books that gender equality is not a universal thing across the dimensions, especially in Skeeve's original kingdom and Possiltum next door. His mom's "idealism" got her killed somehow. Brockhurst just refers to Tanda as "a woman" when he's listing the group while trying to be as insulting as possible about each member. Bunny felt the need to hide her intelligence and act as a ditzy moll because she figured that's all anyone was ever going to see her as. Now, I'm not saying that attitude is universal in the book series (far from it), but there are hints that some corners of Klah are pretty backwards in their thinking about women. And since Skeeve was originally a kid from a farm who ran away with no higher aspirations than being a thief and have never setting foot in a decent-sized town prior to the book series, I thought he might have grown up in some of those more primitive corners of the dimension.**

 **So I switched Skeeve's gender and played up those sexist attitudes that were hinted at for at least Skeeve's home kingdom. I wanted to explore how that might change certain parts of the story, the way Skeeve thinks and reacts to certain situations, and how hard it might be to keep that sort of secret for long. Not everything will turn out exactly like the original plot, but it'll certainly be close at times.**

 **Like I said, this is mostly an experiment to see how this small change could affect things. And don't expect fast updates. I'm not expecting many reviews. I just thought it would be interesting to give this a try.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Wow, I actually got reviews for this story. That's a bit of a surprise. A pleasant one, though. I'm glad that there are some people out there who took the time to read this. And as I said before, it'll branch off more from the original story as things continue.**

" _Fear is not always the most appropriate response to a situation_."- N. "Shaggy" Rogers

Once, in the woods not long after escaping my home, I found myself face to face with a snake-cat. On another occasion, I encountered a spider-bear. Now, faced with a demon, I decided to use the same strategy that saved me previously: I froze. At least, looking back, I like to think it was a deliberate and calculated act.

The demon curled its lips back, revealing a double row of extremely-long and needle-sharp teeth.

I strongly reconsidered my course of action; I considered fainting.

The demon ran a purple tongue over his lips and began slowly extending a taloned hand towards me. And that hit the limit of my courage. I went backwards, scrambling on all fours. It wasn't graceful, but it's surprising how fast you can move that way when properly motivated. And I was definitely motivated. I managed to pick up quite a bit of speed before crashing head-first into the wall.

"Gaahh…" I groaned, my hand instantly going to the injury.

It may not seem like much, but it was the calmest expression of pain and terror I could think of at the time.

At my outburst, the demon seemed to choke. Several ragged sounds emerged before shifting into laughter. It wasn't a low menacing laugh, but the wholehearted enthusiastic laugh of someone who was witnessing something hysterically funny.

Honestly, I found it both disquieting and annoying. Annoying because I had a growing suspicion that _I_ was the source of the amusement and no one enjoyed that; disquieting because… well… he was a demon and demons are—

"Cold, vicious, and bloodthirsty," he demon said as if reading my thoughts. "You really bought the whole line, didn't you, kid?"

"I beg your pardon?" I asked, unable to think of anything else to say.

"Something wrong with your ears? I said 'cold, vicious—'"

"I heard what you said, but I don't know what you mean."

"What I meant was that you were scared stiff by a few well-chosen words from my esteemed colleague, I'll wager. You bought it hook, line, and sinker." He jerked a thumb at Garkin's body, a look that might be a slight grimace passing across his unnerving features briefly. "Sorry for the dramatics. I felt a touch of comic relief was necessary to lighten an otherwise tragic moment."

"Comic relief?"

"Well, actually, I couldn't pass up the opportunity. You should have seen your face."

He chuckled to himself as he strolled out of the pentagram and began leisurely inspecting the premises. With his taloned hands tucked behind his back, he walked casually around.

"So this is Garkin's new place, huh? What a dump. Who would have thought he'd be reduced to this?"

To say I felt perplexed would be a bit of an understatement. I wasn't exactly sure how a demon should act, but it wasn't like this.

I could have bolted for the door. There was a clear path between me and it as long as I didn't mind jumping over a charred body along the way. But I didn't seem to be in immediate danger and I remembered that fast movement could attract a predator's attention, so I chose not to risk it just yet. And besides, the fact I had a clear exit told me something. Either this strange being meant me no harm or he was confident enough in his ability to stop me even if I tried to escape. For the sake of my nervous system, I decided to assume the former.

The demon continued his inspection of the hut while I inspected him back. He seemed humanoid; that is, he had two arms, two legs, and a head. He was shorter than the average grown man, but powerfully built. He appeared a bit broader across the shoulder than most people and heavily muscled. And he certainly wasn't human. I mean, you don't see many hairless humans with dark green scales covering their body and pointed ears lying flat against their head.

Curiosity was always a problem for me and the strangeness of the evening wasn't helping. I knew I should keep my mouth shut and avoid attracting his attention. But if I always did the sensible thing, I would still be in my old village and living with a "husband" that I'd essentially been sold to. Against my better judgment, I decided to risk a question.

"Ah, excuse me?"

"Yeah, kid?"

"Um, you _are_ a demon, aren't you?"

"Huh? Oh, yeah, I guess you could say that."

"Well, if you don't mind my asking, why don't you act like a demon then?"

The demon shot me a disgusted look, then turned his eyes skyward in a gesture of martyrdom.

"Everybody's a critic. Tell you what, kid, would you be happier if I tore your throat out with my teeth?"

"Well, no, but…"

"For that matter, who are you anyway? Are you some poor innocent bystander or did you come with the assassin?"

"I'm with him," I said quickly, pointing a shaking finger at Garkin's body. The part about tearing my throat out had put me on edge again. "Or I _was_. Garkin. The one who summoned… you… I'm… I was his student."

"No kidding? Garkin's apprentice?" He moved towards me, reaching out a hand. "Pleased to… what's wrong?"

When he moved towards me, I'd started backing away from him. I'd tried to keep it subtle and casual, but he clearly noticed.

"Well… it's just… you _are_ a demon."

"Yeah. So?"

"Um… well, demons are supposed to be…"

"Hey, relax, kid. I don't bite. Look, I'm an old buddy of Garkin's."

"I thought you said you were a demon."

"That's right. I'm from a different dimension. A dimension traveler or demon for short. Understand?"

"What's a dimension?"

The demon scowled at me.

"Are you sure you're Garkin's apprentice? I mean, he didn't tell you anything at all about dimensions?"

"No," I said, shaking my head. "I mean, yes, I was his apprentice, but he never mentioned anything about demon-suns."

"That's _dimensions_ ," he corrected. "Well, a dimension is another world. Actually, one of several worlds existing simultaneously with this one, but on different planes. Follow me so far?"

"No," I admitted, though the word now seemed vaguely familiar from Garkin's more advanced books.

"Well, let's just simplify it. You just need to accept I'm from another world. Now, in that world, I'm a magician just like Garkin. A bunch of us had an exchange program going where we would summon each other across the barrier to impress our respective apprentices."

"I thought you said you were a demon," I said suspiciously.

"I _am_! Look, kid, work with me here. In my world, you'd be a demon. But at the current moment, I'm in yours and so I'm the demon."

"I thought you said you were a magician."

"I don't believe this!" The demon made an angry appeal to the heavens. "I'm standing here arguing with some twerp of an apprentice… Look, kid."

He fixed me with his gaze once again. I squirmed a little in discomfort.

"Let's try this another way. Are you going to shake my hand or am I going to have to rip out your heart instead?"

Since he put it that way… I mean, for a minute there, when he lost his temper and started shouting like that, he sounded just like Garkin. It helped give credibility to his claim of friendship with my ex-teacher. I took his extended hand and shook it cautiously.

"I'm… My name is Skeeve."

His grip felt cold, but firm. So firm in fact that I found it impossible to reclaim my hand as quickly as I wanted.

"Pleased to meet you, kid. I'm Aahz."

"Oz?"

"No relation."

"No relation to what?" I asked but he'd already gone back to examining the room again.

"Well, there's certainly nothing here to arouse the greedy side of his fellow beings. Early primitive, enduring, but not particularly sought after."

"We like it," I said rather stiffly.

Now that I'd moved passed being scared, I didn't like the sneer in his voice. The hut wasn't much and I certainly wasn't fond of it beyond the fact it kept the weather off my head, but I resented the criticism.

On a more positive note, the fact he'd returned his attention to the hut meant he didn't seem to notice anything strange about me. I think it would be safe to assume that the spell worked on demons as well as humans. That was a comfort. For all I knew, females might be considered a delicacy for demons. Didn't dragons always prefer eating fair maidens in the stories? It might be the same thing with demons. Though I was growing pretty sure this one didn't eat people. Mostly.

"Don't get your back up, kid," Aahz said easily. "I'm just looking for a motive."

"Motive?"

"A reason for someone to off old Garkin. I'm not big on vengeance, but he was a drinking buddy of mine and it's got my curiosity up." He broke off his inspection of the room to address me directly. "How about you, kid? Can you think of anything? Any milkmaids he's recently seduced or farmers he's cheated? You've got a stake in this too, you know. You might be the next target."

"But the guy who did it is dead." I gestured towards the charred lump by the door, the smell of burnt flesh still hanging in the air. "Doesn't that finish it?"

"Wake up, kid. Didn't you notice the gold cloak? That was a professional assassin. Someone hired him and that someone would hire another one if the job's not done."

A chill ran down my spine and I suppressed a shudder. I hadn't thought of that. I began searching my memory for a clue.

"Well… he said Isstvan sent him."

"What's an Isstvan?"

"I don't— Wait a minute. What do you mean _I_ might be the next target? Why?"

"Neat, huh?" Aahz held up the gold cloak. "Lined and completely reversible. Always did wonder how come no one ever noticed them until they were ready to pounce.

As interesting as the strange and smooth-looking fabric might be, especially since the fire didn't seem to damage it at all earlier, I had slightly bigger and more immediate concerns than sewing lessons.

" _Aahz_."

"Hmmm? Oh, didn't mean to scare you. It's just if someone's declared open season on magicians in general or Garkin specifically, you might have some— _Hello_ , what's this?"

"What's what?" I asked, trying to get a look at what he'd found.

"This," he said, holding up his prize. "It seems I'm not the only demon running around."

I paled as I realized what he held aloft. It was the assassin's head, badly charred and with bone showing in several places. My natural revulsion at the sight was compounded by several obvious and unusual features. The chin and ears were unnaturally pointed. And I could see two short blunt horns protruding from the forehead.

"A devil!" I yelped, jumping back in horror and surprise.

"A what? Oh, a Deveel. No, it's not from Deva. It's from Imper. An Imp. Didn't Garkin teach you _anything_?"

"Come again?" I asked, but Aahz was busy scowling at the head.

"The question is, who would be crass enough to hire an Imp assassin? The only one I can think of is Isstvan, but that's impossible."

"But that's who did it. I told you that already. Remember?"

"I thought you said 'Isstvan.'"

"I _did_! What did you say then?"

"I said Isstvan. Wait, can't you tell the difference?"

"No," I admitted, shaking my head.

"Hmmm… must be too subtle for your ears to detect. No matter. This changes things. If Isstvan is up to his old tricks, there's no time to lose. Hey, wait a minute. What's this?"

"It's a crossbow," I said.

"With heat-seeking armor-piercing quarrels? Is that normal for this world?"

"Heat-seeking…?"

"Never mind, kid. I didn't think so. Well, that settles it. I'd better check this out quick."

My head whirled with everything that was happening and all the confusing information he kept casually dropping. I almost didn't notice when he began to stride towards the pentagram, clearly preparing to leave.

"Hey! Wait a minute! What's going on?"

"It would take too long to explain, kid. Maybe I'll see you again someday."

"But didn't you say I might be a target?"

"Yeah, well, that's the way it crumbles. Tell you what. Start running and maybe they won't find you until the dust settles."

Panic began to claw at my mind. Things were happening far too fast for clear thought. I still didn't know what or who the demon was or if I should trust him, but I did know one thing. Garkin was dead and my trouble was just beginning. Aahz was the closest thing I had to an ally in a situation where I was clearly outclassed. And even if I could run and hide if necessary, using everything I'd learned since I ran away from home, it would be easier to survive if I knew who was after me or what to watch out for. I needed help and Aahz was my only option. I didn't have anyone else.

"Couldn't you help me?"

"No time, kid. I've got to move."

"What if I come with you?"

"You'd just get in the way and might even get me killed."

"But without you, _I'll_ be killed!"

I was growing desperate. Even if I went back out into the world as a thief and a girl, there was not guarantee it would be enough to keep me safe. What if they had some method to track me down, no matter where I went or how I changed my appearance? They found Garkin in a hut in the forest and he was a full magician. I knew how to levitate keys and maybe start a small fire if I was really lucky. I knew I wouldn't be able to stay safe if someone truly wanted to find and kill me. But Aahz seemed unimpressed by my pleading.

"Probably not. But I'll tell you what, kid. I've really got to get going, but just to show you that I think you'll survive, I'll show you a little trick you might use someday. You see all this junk Garkin used to bring me across the barrier? Completely unnecessary. Watch close and I'll show you how we do it when the apprentices aren't watching."

I wanted to shout, to make him stop and listen to me, but he'd already started. He spread his arms at shoulder height, looked skywards, took a deep breath, and then clapped his hands.

Nothing happened.

 **And there's the second chapter for this story complete. And as I said a few times, the changes will become more pronounced as things continue. I hope that you liked the chapter. And remember, feedback is always appreciated.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Well, don't expect another update for this story as quickly. I just happened to be on a roll. Plus, the first few chapters of this story are the ones closest to the original book since they set things up and introduce the two main characters. Once they actually set out, it'll be easier to start showing larger changes.**

" _Trust me. What are friends for?_ " – M. Brutus

Aahz scowled and repeated the gesture, a little quicker this time.

The scene remained exactly the same.

I decided that something must be wrong. And with that decision came the very wise and logical course of action that I immediately implemented.

"Is something wrong?" I asked politely.

"You'd better believe something's wrong," Aahz snarled. "It's not working."

"Are you sure you're doing it right?"

"Yes, I'm sure I'm doing it right, just like I've been sure the last fifty times I did it!"

He was starting to sound annoyed. That made me a little nervous.

"Can you—"

"Look, _kid_. If I knew what was wrong, I'd have already fixed it. Now shut up and just let me think!"

I snapped my mouth shut and even took a step back. He sank down to sit cross-legged in the center of the pentagram where he began sketching vague patterns on the floor as he mumbled darkly to himself. I wasn't certain if he was trying some alternate incantation or was simply thinking hard, but I decided it would be unwise to ask. Instead, for my continued health and hope of not distracting the agitated demon, I silently tried to organize my scrambled thoughts.

I still wasn't sure if Aahz was a danger to me or if he was my only possible salvation from a greater threat. I mean, I was at least partially sure he was kidding about ripping my heart out, but that's the sort of thing one wants to be completely certain about. One thing I had learned for sure that evening, there was more to this magik stuff than floating feathers around.

"That's got to be it!"

Aahz snapped to his feet again, glaring at Garkin's body. The expression didn't exactly demonstrate much respect for the recently departed. And it didn't get any better as he continued to shout.

"That ill-begot son of a wombat!"

"What's a wombat?" I asked before immediately regretting it; the mental image that sprang to mind was so horrifying that I was certain I didn't want details.

I shouldn't have worried. Aahz wasn't about to take the time to answer me. He seemed to be on a roll, yelling at the corpse.

"Well, that's a pretty crummy joke. That's all I have to say."

"Um… What are you talking about, Aahz?"

"I'm talking about Garkin! He did this to me," he said, gesturing at the body sharply. "If I thought it would go this far, I would have turned him into a goat-fish when I had the chance."

"Aahz… I still don't…"

I trailed off, my voice deserting me. He had ceased his ranting and was looking at me again. I shrank back reflexively before I recognize the snarl as a _smile_. The sharp teeth as long as the palm of my hand made it hard to tell. I still wasn't sure what was happening now, but I liked it better when he was raving.

"I'm sorry, Skeeve," he purred. "I guess I haven't been very clear."

"I resisted the urge to back away again. I would start hitting something if I kept doing that. I felt myself growing more uneasy by the minute. I wasn't used to people, much less demons, being nice to me. Before or after I ran away, it just didn't happen.

"Um… That's okay. I was just wondering…"

"You see, here's the situation. Garkin and I have been… playing little jokes on each other for quite some time now. It all started when we were drinking and he stiffed me with the bill. So the next time I summoned him, I brought him in over a lake and he was forced to do his demon act armpit deep in water. He got even by… well, I won't bore you with the details, but we developed a habit of putting each other in awkward or embarrassing situations. It's really very childish, but completely harmless. But _this_ time…" Aahz's eyes narrowed. "This time the old frog-kisser's gone too… I mean, it seems things have gotten a little out of hand. Don't you agree?"

He bared his fangs at me again in an unnerving smile. I wanted very badly to agree with him and the sharp teeth directed towards me, but I didn't have the slightest idea what he was talking about. And I knew it was dangerous to agree with anyone or to agree to anything without knowing what it was. I would have to ask and hope the predatory smile _remained_ a smile.

"You still haven't told me what's wrong."

"What's wrong is that stinking slime-monger took away my powers!" he roared, making me flinch and stumble to the dirt floor as he lost his composure. "I'm blocked! I can't do a flaming thing until he removes his stupid prankish spell and he can't because he's dead! Now do you get it, fly-bait?"

Scrambling back upright, I tried to slow my racing heart. I made up my mind. Savior or not, I'd rather he went back to wherever he came from. I'd just run and hide from the Isstvan person on my own.

"Well, I wish there was something I could do…"

"There is, Skeeve, my boy." Aahz suddenly became all purrs and teeth again. "All you need to do is fire up the old cauldron or whatever it takes to remove this spell. Then we can go our separate ways and—"

"I can't do that."

"Okay, kid," he said, his smile a bit more forced. "I'll stick around until you're on your feet. After all, what are friends for?"

"That's not it."

"What do you want? Blood?" His smile had vanished completely now. "If you're trying to go for extortion, I'll—"

"You don't understand!" I interrupted desperately. "I can't do it because I _can't_ do it. I don't know how."

That stopped him shortly. He blinked briefly as he processed my words.

"Hmm. That could be a bit of a problem. Well, that's fine. Instead of pulling the spell here, how about you just pop me back to my home dimension and I'll get someone there to take it off."

"I can't do that either. Remember? I told you I'd never even heard—"

"Well, what _can_ you do?!"

"I can levitate objects… small ones, at least…"

"And?" he encouraged.

"And… light a candle?"

"Light a candle?"

"Well… almost," I admitted, my cheeks growing warm. "I came really close last time."

Embarrassment washed over me as I mentioned my failure to the demon. But I didn't know why. Why should I care about his opinion? But my only other successful spell was the one I couldn't mention. The secret-hiding spell worked best when kept secret. So I could only admit to floating stuff and my inability to create fire. Neither trait inspired confidence.

Aahz sank heavily into a chair and hid his face in his hands for several minutes. I waited for him to think of something.

"Kid, have you got anything in this dump to drink?" he asked finally.

"I'll get you some water."

'I said something to _drink_ , not to wash with!"

"Oh. Right away!"

I scurried to bring him a goblet of wine Garkin kept, hoping he wouldn't notice the container wasn't particularly clean. I didn't have many dishes to choose from in the small hut.

"What will this do? Will it help fix your powers?"

"No. But it might make me feel a little better." He tossed the wine down his throat in one swallow before studying the goblet disdainfully. "Is this the biggest container you've got here?"

I glanced around the room desperately, but Aahz didn't want to wait for an answer. He rose from the chair, strolled into the pentagram again, and picked up the brazier. I knew from past experience the thing was deceptively heavy, but he lifted and carried it to the keg as if it didn't weigh anything. And not even bothering to empty out Garkin's concoction, he filled it to the brim with wine and took a deep draught.

"Aah, that's better," he said as he finally lowered the brazier again.

I felt a little queasy. I knew most of those ingredients couldn't be considered edible by any stretch of the imagination. Granted, I didn't know what half the ingredients for that last spell were, but those that I _did_ know Garkin tended to keep were unpleasant.

"Well, kid," he said, turning towards me with an appraising stare, "it looks like we're stuck with each other. The setup isn't ideal, but it's what we've got. Time to bite the bullet and play the cards we're dealt. You _do_ know what cards are, don't you?"

"Of course," I said, slightly insulted.

"Good."

"What's a bullet?"

Aahz closed his eyes as if struggling against some type of inner turmoil.

"Kid," he said slowly, "there's a good chance this partnership is going to drive one of us crazy. I'd guess it'll be me unless you can knock off the dum-dum questions every other sentence."

"But I can't understand half of what you're talking about. How am I supposed to keep up?"

"Hmm. Tell you what. Try to save up the questions and ask me all at one time once a day. Okay?"

"All right. I'll try."

"Right. Now here's the situation as I see it. If Isstvan is hiring Imps as assassins—"

"What's an Imp?"

"Kid, will you give me a break?"

"I'm sorry, Aahz, I'll stop. You can keep going."

"Right. Well… umm… It's happening!" he made his appeal to the heavens. "I can't even remember what I was saying!"

"Assassin Imps," I prompted.

"Oh, right. Well, if he's hiring Imps and arming them with non-spec weapons, it can only mean he's up to his old tricks. Now since I don't have my powers, I can't get out of here to sound the alarm. That's where you come in, kid… Kid?"

He looked at me expectantly, but I found I could not contain my growing misery any longer.

"I'm sorry, Aahz," I said in a small, pitiful voice I hardly recognized. "I don't understand a single thing you've said."

I suddenly realized I was about to cry and quickly turned away so he wouldn't see. I couldn't remember the last time that I cried. It might have been when my mother died. I'd avoided crying for several years. Tears were not useful for maintaining my secret.

But today had been impossibly stressful and horrible. Even if I didn't really like Garkin that much, he'd been my teacher for four years. And now he was dead. He was killed right in front of me and there was someone else out there who might want to kill me too. And I didn't know what I was going to do next or what would happen. Everything I knew had turned upside down and I was being overwhelmed with so many things that I couldn't understand. It was too much.

I stood there, tears trickling down my cheeks while alternating between fighting the urge to wipe them away and wondering why I was concerned over whether or not a demon saw me crying. He wouldn't figure out my secret and it shouldn't matter if he saw me break down. But it did matter and I did care. I don't know how long I stayed that way, trying to wrestle my emotions back under control, but I was brought back to reality by a gentle hand on my shoulder. A cold, gentle hand.

"Hey, kid. Don't beat up on yourself like that," Aahz said, his voice surprisingly sympathetic. "It's not your fault if Garkin kept so many secrets from you. I'm really starting to question his teaching method, honestly. Nobody expects you to know something you were never taught, so there's no reason you should expect it either."

"I just feel so stupid," I said, not turning back around. "Stupid and useless."

"You aren't, kid. That much I can tell. Garkin wouldn't have brought you on as an apprentice if you were. If anybody here is stupid, it's me. I got so carried away with everything, I forgot myself and tried talking to an apprentice as if he were a full-blown magician. Now _that's_ stupid."

I rubbed my arms briefly, still unable to respond. I couldn't really bring myself to believe his words. A lifetime of hearing that girls were useless and shouldn't be entrusted with anything important couldn't be completely ignored or forgotten. Sometimes I could put it out of my mind, but other times it would come roaring back to remind me that I wasn't meant for this life. A boy would have figured it out and understood more. I was certain of it.

"And don't forget, kid." He gave my shoulder a gentle shake. "Right now you can do more magik than I can."

"But you know more."

"But I can't use it. You know, kid, that gives me an idea. With Garkin dead now, you're kind of left dangling. What do you say to the idea of signing on as my apprentice for a while? We'll take it from the top, teaching you as if you were a new student who doesn't know a thing. We'll take it step by step from the top. What do you say?"

In spite of my gloom, I could feel my spirits begin to lift. Maybe he was right and I wasn't stupid. I certainly could recognize a golden opportunity when I saw it. Considering everything that was happening, it was the best outcome that I could ever hope for. And I knew when to pounce on the once-in-a-lifetime chance.

"Yes. That sounds great, Aahz."

"Then it's a deal?"

"It's a deal," I said and stuck out my hand.

"What?" he snarled. "Isn't my word good enough for you?"

"But you said—"

"That's right. You're my apprentice now and I don't go around shaking apprentices' hands."

I silently withdrew my hand. I should have known. Why should this alliance be all roses and songs? Nothing else in life ever was. But at least he could have been worse.

"Now as I was saying, here's what we've got to do about the current problem—"

"But I haven't had any lessons yet!"

"That's right, kid. Here's your first lesson. When a crisis shows up, you don't waste energy hoping for information or skills you haven't got. You dig in and handle it as best you can with what you've got. Now shut up while I fill you in on the situation… apprentice."

Without any further prompting, I shut up and prepared to listen. He studied me for a moment. Then he gave a small satisfied nod, took another gulp from the brazier, and began talking.

"Now, you have a vague idea about other dimensions since I explained about them earlier. You also have some first-hand experience that magicians can open passages in the barriers between dimensions. Well, different magicians use that power in different ways. Some, like Garkin, only use it to impress the local yokels; summon a demon, visions of other worlds, that kind of shtick. But there are others with more complex motives."

He paused to take another gulp of wine. Surprisingly, I felt no urge to interrupt with questions. Nothing seemed too complicated so far.

"Technology in different dimensions has progressed at different rates, as has magik. Some magicians use that fact to make a profit. They aren't showmen. They're smugglers, buying and selling technology across the barriers for money and power. Most of the inventors in any dimension are actually magicians."

I must have frowned without realizing it, but Aahz noticed. He acknowledged my reaction with a wink and a smirk.

"I know what you're thinking, Skeeve. They're actually a fairly ethical bunch. There's a set of unwritten rules called the Smuggler's Code they stick to pretty close."

"Smuggler's Code?" I asked, forgetting for a moment about my intention to keep quiet.

Not seeming to mind the minor interruption, Aahz explained, "It's like the Mercenaries' Code, but less violent and more profitable. Anyway, as an example, one item in the code states you cannot bring an 'invention' into a dimension that is far too advanced for that dimension's technology. Like not bringing guided missiles into a longbow culture or lasers into a flint and powder era."

There were so many words in that sentence that didn't make any sense. Somehow I managed to keep my silence, albeit with an extreme amount of difficulty.

"As I said, most magicians keep to that code fairly closely, but every once in a while… a bad one crops up. Which brings us back to Isstvan."

A sudden chill ran up my spine at the sound of that name. Maybe there _was_ something different about how Aahz pronounced it.

"Some say Isstvan isn't playing with a full deck. I think he's been playing with more volatile forms of magik for too long and it's messed with his brain. But whatever the reason, somewhere along the way he's gotten it into this head that he wants to rule the dimensions. All of them. He's tried it before, but we caught wind of it in time and a bunch of us teamed up to teach him a lesson. In fact, that was about the time I first met Garkin."

He gestured with the brazier and splashed a bit more wine on the floor. I started doubting his sobriety, but his voice seemed steady as he continued.

"I thought he gave up the whole idea after his last attempt. We even gave him a few souvenirs to be sure he wouldn't forget. And now this happens. If he's hiring cross-dimensional help and arming them with advanced technological weapons, then he's probably trying to do it again."

"Do what?"

"I told you. Take over the dimensions."

"But _how_?" I asked. "How does what he does in this dimension help him rule another? How would that work?"

"Oh, that. Well, each dimension has a certain amount of power that can be channeled or converted into magik. Different dimensions have different amounts and it is all shared by the magicians of that dimension. If Isstvan can succeed in controlling or killing the other magicians in this dimension, he can use its entire magical energy to attack another dimension. If he succeeds in winning there, he has the power from two dimensions to attack a third and so on. The longer he keeps going, the stronger he gets and the harder he'll be to stop."

"I actually understand that," I said, rather pleased about it.

"Good. Then you know why we've got to stop him."

All my enthusiasm about understanding the complicated explanation abruptly evaporated.

"Wait. We? You mean us? You and me?"

"I know it's not much of a force, kid. But it's all we've got."

"Then we've got nothing."

I couldn't believe what he was saying. Strange worlds filled with demon magicians? I could accept that with a little explanation. An evil and powerful magician who wanted to take over all dimensions? That makes sense. Someone thinking I could help stop that evil and powerful magician? Impossible.

Even after four years of learning magik, it didn't change the fact I would never be meant for anything important or vital. The best I could hope for was a mundane life where I simply survived with the skills I picked up and where no one hurt me. Any greater goal I might attempt was doomed to failure. Even running away, disguising my gender, and becoming an apprentice was pushing it. What Aahz was suggesting would never work. We couldn't do it. _I_ couldn't do it.

"Don't exaggerate, kid. Now, we've got a lot of work to accomplish and you're going to need all the practice time you can get if we're going to stop Isstvan. Bonkers or not, he's no slouch when it comes to magik."

"Aahz," I said slowly, not looking up. "I can't do this. I can't. I'm sorry. If you depend on me for something this crucial, I'll only let you down. No matter how much you can teach me, it won't work. Some people aren't meant for this."

"Kid, give me some credit here. With a few lessons, you'll get a bit more confidence and you'll be fine."

Finally meeting his eyes and resigning myself to what was happening, I asked, "Tell me the truth. Do you honestly think there's a chance you can teach me enough magik in time to be able to stop him?"

"Of course, kid. I wouldn't even try this if we didn't have a chance. Trust me."

I wasn't convinced. And from the sound of his voice, neither was he.

 **I've discovered that if I want to mimic Robert Asprin's writing style, I have to use a lot more explanation marks than I usually do. I generally use maybe a couple in a story if any. He uses half a dozen a chapter or more.**


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